Orion waded into the crowd with a roar as his muscles expanded. He began swinging Sunflare wildly, scattering bots to the wind. When he finished an arc, he adjusted his grip and swung the opposite direction. He scythed through the smaller robots like a farmer harvesting wheat. Some of them caught on fire, turning into flaming projectiles that smashed into other robots in the crowd.


    A purple cloud of smoke roiled through the press of bodies, enveloping Orion with stinging gas. His nose and lungs started to fill with mucus, and he retched to remove the obstruction. Blinking through tears he spied the fat cigar robot looming over the mob. Dark vapor poured from the cigar and vents in the mutant robombie’s rotund frame.


    [You are Poisoned! You will take +1 HP of Damage Per Second.]


    With Overclock also running, that doubled the damage he was taking. Not too bad overall, but his level was too low to soak that much damage. He shut the ability off and retreated, trying to clear a path away from the smoke cloud.


    “To se-ver and pro-pro-tect!” the Authority Bot quoted before opening fire.


    A few more robombies were cut down as he bobbed and weaved through the crowd. One shot him through the meat of his calf and he stumbled to his knees. Orion fought off the hands that clawed at him, their fingers digging deep scratches in his flesh.


    Shots rang out and three bots went down with bullet holes in their skulls. This gave Orion enough room to leap to his feet. As another shot rang out he spotted Slate taking pot shots at the robots near him. Orion screamed, “Run! Now!”


    He saw Slate hesitate. Every blazing orange eye followed Orion’s gaze upward. He could almost hear them processing the new information as the street went deadly silent. He swapped to the Pocket Nuke in a desperate attempt to save the Commander’s life. Finally, Slate started to run full sprint down the bridge towards base. The Pocket Nuke was already humming to life when he heard the telltale sound of a Gatling gun starting to spin.


    “Y-y-you are are are under arrrrest-t-t!” it commanded.


    Just as the robot cop raised its gun arm Apus flew past the monitor, trailing fire and keening loudly. Heads turned to follow the bird, too stupid to recognize a hologram. Metal arms groped for the phoenix, hands passing harmlessly through him. The Gatling gun swung and opened fire at the bird, plasma rounds punishing the broken lobby and taking out another pillar. Orion fired and sliced the enforcement drone in half, taking out several buildings directly behind it. Smaller robombies were atomized in the crossfire.


    Green fire engulfed the Authority Bot. “Of-fi-ficer doooo-” it stuttered before the screen went dark.


    Yelling from the adrenaline rush, he swept the gun to the side, carving a swath of destruction. Orion’s HUD started pinging him with notification windows.


    [Orion Starbeard has reached LVL 8!]


    [Marksmanship skill has reached LVL 4!]


    [Warden Vocation has reached LVL 6!]


    Orion struggled to swipe the notices away with a flick of his eyes. The cloud of poison reached him again, causing another coughing fit. Orion arced the Pocket Nuke’s ray back at the fat zombie and ignited the greasy smoke.


    The explosion traveled back to the poison robot’s vents and it erupted in a white hot ball of fire, molten shrapnel tearing into the crowd. Orion’s skin blistered from the heat as shards of hot metal peppered his thick hide. Bots were cut down all around Orion, and the concussive force of the explosion blew everyone within a twenty foot radius off their feet. Orion landed heavily, but not before chunks of fatbot carved off his left ear and another buried itself in his guts.


    The damaged lobby took the brunt of the explosion, and the entire building tilted. The rusted husk of a skyscraper tipped badly and fell, smashing into the building across the street before collapsing on the fallen robots below. It started a domino effect that toppled two more buildings, burying several blocks in twisted rubble.


    [Orion Starbeard has reached LVL 9!]


    [Trapper Skill has reached LVL 4!]


    [Warden Vocation has reached LVL 7!]


    [Orion Starbeard has reached LVL 10!]


    [Combat Regeneration Unlocked!]


    [Trapper Skill has reached LVL 5!]


    [Orion Star-]


    “Disable notifications!” Orion screamed, blue blood flecking from his tusks.


    Suddenly Orion realized he couldn’t hear himself. All he heard was a persistent ringing in his ears. His face hurt and he pressed a hand to it, wincing as it came away bloody. His depth perception was also off, probably missing an eye. Nevertheless, he fought through the screaming pain and rolled over. His arms and much of his body were burned down to blue muscle tissue. He could see it actively healing, but not fast enough to survive this.


    The Pocket Nuke lay at his side, completely undamaged despite the carnage. Picking it up, Orion used the cannon as a crutch to hoist himself to his feet. The fallen skyscraper blocked part of the street, but new enemies were already scaling the ruins. More were streaming in through alleyways, side streets, even pounding on the doors and windows of nearby buildings. The entire city was after him.


    “You want me?” Orion wheezed, “Come get me!”


    He tried to lift the plasma cannon but his left arm wouldn’t obey him. Grunting, he lifted it with one hand and rested the butt of the gun on his hip, thumb already pressing the trigger. After the usual warm-up, the gun blasted away. Metal bodies were liquefied mere feet from his position, and Orion swept the beam across the crowd. Big mutant bots with various elemental effects streaming off them were scissored in half by the green beam. Orion’s vision fixed itself, and he grinned. Maybe if he could keep this up a bit longer he could escape!


    ‘Sir?’ Apus’s voice was nervous through their mental connection. ‘Behind you.’


    Orion faltered. Suddenly exhausted, the cannon fell from numb fingertips. Already knowing what to expect, he turned slowly. At the opposite end of the street was an even larger Authority Brigade drone in full riot gear. The heavily armored unit had a grenade launcher arm and carried a tower shield with S.W.A.T. emblazoned on the front. With a weary sigh Orion closed his eyes, just hoping he bought Slate enough time to retreat.


    The Riot Bot synthed, “Y-you have the right to-to-to remain de-dead.”


    [You Have Died]


    Orion woke up deep underwater. At first he panicked, wondering how he got there until he saw the Deck Puncher anchored nearby. He was in the Sea of Salt, the infamous underwater level. The ocean was filled with fish of all sizes, with tropical colors and ornate fins. A peaceful giant whale shark floated by, grinning with its derpy mouth.


    The sea floor was covered with coral and vibrant flowering seaweed. The “sky” above was a cave ceiling covered in bioluminescent sea snails that gave off the impression of a starry sky. In the far distance Orion saw Apollux the Sun Snail, the colossal mollusk who crawled across ceiling to create the illusion of a day/night cycle. The entire world was contained within a cave filled to the brim with salt water.


    He was pulled closer to the Deck Puncher and saw that it had changed once again. The body of the ship was covered in metal now, giving it the impression of a submarine. Bones had been replaced with a painted shark face on the front, similar to old WWI planes. The deck had a Bubble around it to provide air for the crew without hindering visibility. The sails were now replaced with fresh white fabric, with some fishing nets draped over for cosmetic effect.


    There were tentacles floating around the ship, lifelessly drifting with the current. Orion realized he’d missed the battle with the sea''s final boss, the Mad Goddess Unterva. On the sea floor he could see the circle of decrepit Greek inspired ruins that made up Unterva’s boss arena. In the ring of broken columns stood a great temple, a swirling Gate revealing a sea with a distant mountain range just beyond.


    His view shifted, and he watched the crew doling out the loot from the boss chest. Everyone’s armor theme had taken on a distantly underwater theme with Grecian undertones. Armor’s plate was made of coral with a stone statue helm. Lazar was in a long coat covered in seaweed and fishing nets. Seal Woman had copper scaled gauntlets and a shark skin loin cloth and cape, and a shark head pauldon over one shoulder. Aurelio was in a toga and leather apron, complete with winged sandals over his large Dwarven feet.


    Armor shouted excitedly and held up a fishing rod with a marble column handle and an anchor shaped fishing hook. “Yes! Unterva’s fishing rod! I’ve always wanted this!” he rejoiced. The circle of friends applauded and clapped him on the back before Armor turned to immediately test his new rod.


    Starbeard, with tentacle beard and seaweed covered buccaneer coat, looked every inch like the captain of a ghost ship. He stared off at the fish drifting past, smiling peacefully. A fluffy bird chick with red and orange feathers sat on his shoulder, sleeping with his face tucked under a downy wing.


    “So what’s this really about?” a monotone voice spoke.


    Orion and Starbeard looked down together to see the feathered bird woman wearing a black tunic tied at the waist and a flowering hooded cloak of seaweed. She still wore the plague doctor mask from the Charon fight. A staff of pink coral clutched in her wings.


    Starbeard smiled innocently, “Whatever do you mean, Mika?”


    The bird woman removed her mask, the hood falling back. The motion revealed a pale face with Asian features, a petite nose and cupid bow lips. Her right eye was a piercing crimson, while the left was covered in a shell eyepatch. Shoulder length black hair with a streak of white was brushed back over her right ear. The harpy woman fixed Starbeard with a hard stare.


    “Are you dying or something?”


    “Shit!” Starbeard looked over his shoulder at the crowd by the chest and whispered, “Come here!”


    Starbeard led her to his cabin and closed the door behind it. Orion noticed it was filled with all kinds of trophies and knickknacks from their various fights across three seas. His desk was messy and covered with maps, some held open with daggers driven into the wood. He walked around to his chair and Mika sat down across from him.


    “So you are dying,” she continued.


    Starbeard sat heavily. “I am not dying,” he denied. “Probably. I do have cancer. Or had, maybe. I just had surgery two weeks ago, which is why we had to take a small hiatus on this playthrough.”


    They shared a quiet moment, Mika processing this information. Finally she asked, “Why hide it though? You should just tell everyone about it. Your friends, at least, if not your fans.”


    “I know, I know. I just…” Starbeard scrubbed his face with his hands, seeking the words. "No matter what the results might be, I wanted to have one last adventure with my friends. It might sound selfish, but I just wanted us to enjoy the game. Without my condition hanging over everyone’s heads.”


    Mika gave him a judgmental stare, making him squirm in his seat.


    “Look, I promise to let everyone know if it turns out to be more serious,” Starbeard promised. “I caught it early. The doctors aren’t worried so I’m trying not to worry either.”


    Mika dropped her gaze. “But we’re your friends. You should have told us.”


    Starbeard softened. “You’re more than that. You’re my family. All of you. Mika, you’re like a daughter to me. But sometimes parents hide things to protect the people they love.”


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Mika folded her arms and huffed. Quietly she asked, “Does Aurelio know at least?”


    Starbeard visibly relaxed. “Aurelio knows. And you will be pleased to know we’ve made it official.”


    Mika immediately stood up and started bouncing, wings flapping. “Ooh! Ooh! I knew you liked each other! And you like, kissed and stuff?”


    Starbeard gave Mika a lascivious grin. “Sometimes we even hold hands.”


    Mika covered her mouth and giggled. “How scandalous!”


    Starbeard frowned and closed his eyes, “If my health get worse I will let all of you know. I was just hoping that a few rounds of chemo and surgery would take care of the problems and I could move on with my life. I’m not trying to lie to anyone.”


    Mika tilted her head in a birdlike way. She hopped over and hugged against Orion’s chubby belly. He gave her a paternal hug, patting her back soothingly.


    “If the worst does happen though, I need to know you’re going to be okay,” Starbeard said in a hushed tone. “You have a strong community watching over you. You don’t always have to do everything yourself.”


    “I know,” the muffled response came. “I will be fine. It’s hard sometimes, but I know I’m not alone.”


    Starbeard hugged Mika and beamed at her. “You’re stronger than you think. And I am so proud of you.”


    As the two stood up to join the others, Orion felt himself pulled back to reality.


    [Memory upload at 90%]


    Slate ran. He clumped across the bridges in his bulky space suit, ducking behind roof parapets when the press of bodies got too thick. There were so many robombies that the streets looked like a glittering sea of oil rippling below. He heard the explosion and watched the building he was just in tip over. He heard a distant scream, saw green light flash across the streets. The urge to help, to save his new friend nearly overtook him. He took a few tentative steps, then steeled himself. Slate turned and ran back towards Phoenix, honoring the Org’s sacrifice.


    It took Slate the better part of two days to get home. He had to camp at one of their safe havens to wait until the city streets cleared out enough that he could sleep without being spotted. Once he entered the suburbs the streets were nearly clear. The commotion must have drawn away any stragglers in the neighborhood.


    Finally, he climbed the spiral staircase that led to the surface. There was no sandstorm, no robots, no crazy black dogs. He was alone on a hostile alien world, not quite sure how to keep everything running. Orion had the plan, but Slate didn’t know anything about agriculture. He didn’t know anything about repairs. He was a soldier, he knew how to fight. And even that knowledge wasn’t enough to save Orion. He would not be forgotten though. Before anything else, Slate knew what he had to do.


    The next morning, Slate stood back to admire his work. He’d made a memorial in the center of the courtyard. He had taken some of the stone he’d collected and formed it into a large block. Then using his MUT he’d painstakingly carved away chunks of it. After a time, a shape started to form as he chipped away at the slab. By the morning, he’d managed to chisel what looked like a rough carving of Orion wielding a pickax.


    Pewter stood on his shoulder and tipped her head, “I think it looks very nice.”


    “It’s crap,” Slate muttered.


    “It’s your first time making a statue,” Pewter scolded. “You can’t expect to be perfect on your first attempt. You did all this with no training. That’s very impressive.”


    “It’s still crap,” grumbled Slate. “The man died a hero, saving my life. And this is the only tribute I can give him. Some child’s art project.”


    “Everyone starts somewhere,” Pewter said consolingly. “I think if he was here right now, Orion would like this.”


    There was a muffled shout behind him, “Slate?”


    Slate sighed, “I can almost hear his voice.”


    There was a faint crash, followed by footsteps on metal. From behind him, the hatch to Orion’s shelter slammed open and a blue head popped out. Orion shouted, Slate! You alive, buddy? Scream once if you’re dead! Oh, there you are.”


    Slate whipped around and watched as Orion hauled himself out of the ground and ran over. He had Sunflare in hand and he looked ready to fight.


    “Where are they? Were you followed? Did you die?” Orion glanced up and pointed, “What is that?”


    Slate’s complexion went chalk white, then darkened as he blushed. He tried to block the statue with his body. “It’s, uh, it’s nothing.”


    Pewter interjected, “The Commander made a statue of you because he thought you died. As a memorial.”


    “Insubordination!” Slate roared at Pewter.


    Orion pursed his lips with appreciation as he unequipped his hammer. He folded his arms and leaned side to side, appreciating the angles. Orion announced, “That’s not bad! It’s very flattering, actually. I like how it’s in the center of the courtyard, though I am worried the next sandstorm will wreck it.”


    Orion spread his arms, “But as you can see, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I thought I mentioned I respawned when I died.”


    Embarrassed, Slate blurted, “How was I to know? People don’t just pop back to life after they die. There were legends that the Sentinels were deathless soldiers, unstoppable even after supposedly being completely obliterated. I always thought it was propaganda, but clearly there’s some truth behind it.”


    Orion continued to stare at the statue with a look of admiration. “Yeah, that tracks. Anyway, thank you for the statue. How long was I out, anyway?”


    “Approximately three days,” reported Pewter.


    “Huh,” murmured Orion. “I wonder if that’s the average? I haven’t had any clocks to use for a frame of reference. A~anyhoo, I think I’m gonna crash. I need to finish my repairs and I have a lot of trauma to process, so I’m gonna zone out a bit. You sure you’re okay?”


    Slate nodded dumbly, still a bit overwhelmed by what he was seeing.


    “The Commander is in good health, but I will continue to monitor him and report any concerns,” Pewter reported.


    “You do that.” Orion turned to head back home and stopped, looking at the statue. “Hey, Slate, you should keep that up. I think you have a real talent for sculpture.”


    As Orion hobbled off, Slate glanced back up at his handiwork. The statue still looked bad to him, but Pewter was right. It was the first time he’d ever tried anything like this. And it had been rather cathartic. He hadn’t taken much time to relax during his career. First as a soldier, then as a mercenary until he’d landed this prison job. Becoming warden of this prison colony was supposed to be less stressful than his war torn past.


    He did have a lot of downtime now that everyone under his care was still in stasis. He pulled a chunk of stone out of his inventory and looked it over with a critical eye. Well, everyone needed a hobby.


    [Colony has reached LVL 1!


    New buildings available! Building speed decreased by 5%


    +1 Colony Leader Unlocked!


    +10 Guards added!


    +25 Colonists added!


    Would you like to rename Colony? Y/N?]


    Orion and Slate both looked up at the World HUD announcement. They were both working in the garden when it appeared. The greenhouse had been expanded by three plots. The original plot had finally sprouted purple, blue and pink vegetables that looked ready to harvest. Apus had assured them they should be edible to every species currently in the colony roster, securing a reliable source of food!


    “All right, It worked! Good job, man!” Orion praised Slate. “We’ll make a farmer out of you yet. So, what are you going to name it?”


    Slate took off his gardening gloves. “Name what?”


    “The Colony.” Orion grabbed the edge of his HUD screen and showed it to Slate. “It’s giving us an option to name the colony.”


    Slate shook his head and spun his own HUD around. “Not me. It’s your colony now. You’re the only one who got that notification. It’s your call, I just live here, Director.”


    Orion asked, “Director?”


    Slate finished putting his tools away. He clarified, “It’s the title of given to the ruler of a colony. You created all of this, that makes you the Director.”


    “Oh yeah, the notification said something about that.” Orion grimaced, “Uhg, colony ruler? Don’t like that! Couldn’t we put it to a vote? Maybe I could be the president? No, still too formal. Maybe Governor?”


    “No elected officials here, Orion. Just a bunch of confused and scared colonists about to wake up on a hostile world.” Slate gave him a reassuring pat on the elbow. “These people will be counting on you to make the right decisions. How you rule is entirely up to you. Will you be a tyrant, or a protector?”


    Orion scowled, “No tyrants.”


    Slate gave Orion an appraising look. After a moment the Gray gave a nod of approval. “I believe you. And don’t worry, you’ll have me if you need advice.”


    “Now,” continued Slate. “I’m going to go freshen up so I can greet the newcomers. I think a familiar face will help them acclimate to their new surroundings. You should introduce yourself when you get the chance. After all, they’re your citizens now.”


    Slate headed down the newly built passage that connected the greenhouse to the base proper. Left alone with his thoughts, Orion stared at the colony window on his HUD. So he was in charge of this whole operation, eh? Sure, Orion had business experience, but this was literally a life or death situation. Intellectually he knew Slate was just a computer generated NPC whose purpose was to provide missions and make the world feel more alive. But living with and talking with the Commander quickly made Orion think of him as more than just data on a server somewhere.


    Come to think of it, Orion was just data on a server somewhere too. So where was the line? What made these people any different than him now? His conversations Slate had revealed a whole life before landing on this world. He’d been a soldier, lost people he cared about, had a family out there somewhere. After a while Orion stopped thinking of Slate as a weird little alien and just viewed him as a person. And now there were thirty-six more new colonists counting on him for survival.


    “No pressure,” Orion muttered.


    Orion sniffed his pit and gagged. They’d been working all morning clearing up debris from the last sandstorm and part of the afternoon in the humid greenhouse. He reeked. If he was going to meet the newbies, he’d have to freshen up too. He considered using his shower in the courtyard, but quickly dismissed the idea. If Orion took too long the colonists might find him, dick swinging in the breeze. Not a great first impression.


    He decided to use the communal shower in the locker room. All attempts to fix the plumbing had failed, so Orion had converted one of the stalls using his water heater and bucket method. It gave Slate a place to bathe since he couldn’t survive outside without his suit. Orion hung the rest of the farming equipment on a peg board mounted to the wall before exiting himself.


    By the time he reached the locker room Slate was already gone, the rinky-dink shower still steamy. Orion stripped down and tossed his clothes in the Refresher. It was a kind of high-tech washer/dryer combo that took dirty clothes and, as the name implied, refreshed them within ten minutes. They went in reeking like a pig’s arse and came out smelling of daisies. Or whichever aroma you wanted. Orion was partially fond of the maple bacon scent.


    Orion turned on the faucet and stepped into the still hot water. He’d figured out how to fix the mini shampoo and soap dispensers, and he started lathering up. As he he scrubbed off the work of the day, Orion called out, “Hey, Apus. Got any suggestions for a colony name?”


    Apus appeared on his shoulder with a puff of flame and then squawked in dismay at the water raining down on him. He flew away and perched on the stall divider, shaking water off his wings and preening with annoyance. Apus was merely a hologram and physically could not get wet, but the act made his bird pal seem eerily real.


    Come to think of it, Orion and Apus were both video game data. How real did that make his AI companion? Maybe it would be best to default to treating everyone as if they were a real person. Being mean to folks always felt icky to him anyway, even when playing video games.


    “Sorry, buddy. I wasn’t thinking about the water.”


    Apus fluffed himself and raised his head regally, “Apology accepted. But why ponder this in the shower?”


    “That’s when I do some of my best thinking,” answered Orion.


    Apus nodded and replied, “Well, I have noticed you have something of a naming convention you default to. Why not name it after a constellation?”


    Orion shrugged as he washed. “Yeah, but that’s my thing. But other people are going to live here. It should be something they can recognize, at least.”


    “Shall I peruse the CODEX for suggestions? Strong animals or something of the like?” Apus asked.


    “Yes please.”


    Orion watched as Apus went into search mode. He was still stoked to have a phoenix companion. It reminded him of the baby phoenix chick from the Ashwing fight. Maybe that was the inspiration for designing Apus to look like a mythic firebird instead of star themed. That made him pause. The phoenix rising from the ashes. Destruction and rebirth. That was a pretty inspiring theme.


    “Apus,” Orion asked. “Do phoenixes exist in Cosmic Horizons?”


    “Searching,” he responded. “Several matches found. Phoenixes are a bird species native to the Rokaos homeworld, Huphaast. They have similar life cycles to the legendary phoenix from Terran mythos. They were rescued from their natural habitat when Huphaast was destroyed during the Gate Wars, and now phoenixes thrive on Rokaos colonies. There is also a constellation Phoenix that can be seen in the skies above Terra.”


    “Oh yeah, there is a minor constellation named Phoenix!” Orion declared, “I think we have our answer.”


    Orion pulled up the Colony Menu and tapped the rename button. He typed the new name in and and double-checked the spelling before selecting ''Accept’. As the World HUD notified the rest of the colony of the change, Orion turned off the water and dried himself. He changed back into his freshly laundered clothes and checked himself in the mirror above the bathroom sinks. He opened hismouth to make sure he didn’t have ratillac in his tusks, tilting his head from side-to-side. Something caught his eye and he turned to look at his brain implant.


    Tiny brass striations were protruding from the metal casing, reminiscent of circuit board wiring. Smaller ovals were budding off the main plate, edged by a dull green patina. He could have sworn it was just an oblong disc before, almost egg shaped. Orion turned to Apus, who was examining it as well.


    “Am I crazy,” Orion asked. “Or has this thing gotten bigger?”